The Question
by ServeMeTheSky
Summary: There is a question Ashley has been dying to ask Shepard for a while, and she won't let the Commander's dislike of mornings deter her. Implied Femshep/Liara. Rated T for language. One-shot. Story idea is mine, Mass Effect is not.


_A/N: This story takes place towards the end of ME1. It was borne out of a question that suddenly popped into my head, and even now don't know the answer to! I feel like it wasn't as funny as I intended, but hopefully you still enjoy it. Rated T for language. There is implied Femshep/Liara, so if female/female(asexual) isn't your cup of tea, drink coffee. I don't own Mass Effect._

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><p>Commander Shepard was not a morning person, and everybody on the Normandy knew it. After she stumbled out of bed and into the shower, it usually took several strong cups of coffee and at least an hour before her brain kicked in and her mood stabilised. During this period of time it was best to make as little noise as possible to avoid irritating her, and save all snark until mid-morning. Breakfast in the mess was therefore a quiet affair, with personnel showing an intense interest in their plates (which was a mistake in itself – military supplies were not famed for their deliciousness) to avoid accidental eye-contact and subsequent scathing sarcasm. The only person immune to this unwritten rule was Shepard's blue-skinned Asari lover, who would be greeted with a soft 'G'morning' and sometimes (so rumour would have you believe) an adoring smile.<p>

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams knew all this. Hell she spent a lot of time running interference for the Commander, preventing her from being bombarded with inane questions until a sensible time of day, but this particular morning she had woken in a mischievous mood. Time spent aboard the Normandy had tempered her initial dislike of aliens and she was proud to call Garrus and Tali and the others her friends and allies. But (she thought to herself with a grin) there was a question she had been dying to ask for a while now, and an irritable Commander wasn't going to stop her. She checked her watch quickly then made her way to the mess…

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><p>Commander Shepard was not a morning person, and everybody on the Normandy knew it. She <em>liked<em> that everybody knew it; it meant that she could wake up in her own time and enjoy her breakfast (and Liara's company) in peace. She could pretend for a few shining moments that it was just the two of them and there was no worrying about Saren, Geth or saving the galaxy. This particular morning she was gulping down her second cup of coffee whilst trying to avoid pulling too many faces at the rather tasteless bowl of porridge the kitchen had managed to produce for her. Liara was at her side, delicately sipping at a cup of tea, poring over her notes on the Protheans. Garrus was sitting opposite, foregoing breakfast in favour of recalibrating his rifle. Shepard allowed his quiet grumbles and Liara's inward mutterings to wash over her, providing the perfect soundtrack for the morning. Honestly, she thought, this was exactly the way she wanted to spend every morning, quiet companionship and nothing to bother he-

"Morning Skip!"

Shepard grimaced to herself. Williams. Sure, the woman was a damn fine soldier and a secret literary enthusiast, but there was something not right about anyone who could be perky _every damn morning_ without the aid of caffeine.

"Williams" she replied gruffly. With any luck the Gunnery Chief would just be swinging by before returning to the shuttle bay and Shepard could return to her silence…

"Mind if I join you? Hey Garrus, Liara." She pulled out a chair and plonked herself down before waiting for a reply.

Rats.

The Turian and the Asari nodded rather warily in return, mindful of keeping the noise down even if she wasn't.

"So, what's on the menu this morning? Porridge again? Mmm, delicious." Ashley said, deliberately ignoring the look Shepard was giving her. The Commander grunted in reply and returned her gaze to her coffee cup. Garrus tore his attention away from his rifle long enough to shoot Ashley a quizzical look and Liara peeked at her from over the top of her notes, wondering why the Gunnery Chief was seemingly intent on bothering her lover.

Ashley grinned to herself. The natives were rattled, good. She was enjoying herself thus far, speaking two whole sentences to her morning-hating Commander without getting blown out the airlock was a minor miracle in itself, but she wasn't going to push her luck any further than she was already going to.

"Actually Skipper, I wanted to ask you something real quick-"

"I already told you yesterday Ash, Admiral Kahoku wants us to check out these Cerberus bases in the Yangtze system" Shephard growled.

"Oh no, not that, I already knew that. This was something a bit more…personal". Ashley replied, innocence radiating from every pore.

Shepard's head snapped up, eyes locking with the Gunnery Chief. Liara dropped her pen in surprise and Garrus paused his polishing, flicking his gaze rapidly back and forth between the two humans. Personal questions at this time of morning? Maybe they'd be in for breakfast and a show.

Ashley, intent on asking before she became intimately acquainted with the butt of Shepard's rifle, blithely ignored the surprise of her table-mates and continued. "Y'see, it's actually about you and Liara. No, not about you _and_ Liara," she quickly clarified, seeing that her companions were getting the wrong impression. "It was going to be a serious question on the viability of human/Asari interspecies relationships given the longevity of Asari lifespans and the relatively quick process of human maturation." In the split-second she had before Shepard worked out what she just said and proceeded to meltdown, Ashley recalled a popular meme from decades ago, entitled trollface. She smirked, wondering if her face looked like that now.

By this point Shepard's brain had caught up with her ears. "Look Williams, if you have a fucking question, ask it, otherwise find someone else to bother."

Liara chose this moment to intervene. "Perhaps, Gunnery Chief, we could do this another time?" she said, trying to silently communicate to Ashley that Shepard was on the verge of losing her temper and Liara didn't want to spend all morning calming her back down again (even if she would secretly love practising some of her 'relaxation' techniques on the red-headed Commander).

Ashley could see the limited lifespan of the conversation was almost over and threw out her question before Shepard threw her out of the Mess.

"Which one of you is the cradle-snatcher?"

There was a pause.

There was a longer pause.

Then Garrus started laughing, a full-bodied, unrestrained laughter that saw him drop his rifle components and clutch his sides.

Liara was less amused and more confused. "Cradle…snatcher? I'm afraid I don't understand, Gunnery Chief. A cradle is a resting place for a human infant, is it not? But I'm sure we don't have one aboard the Normandy, and even if we did I'm sure neither Shepard nor I would take it…" Her brow was creasing in bewilderment and she looked increasingly concerned that someone had mistaken her for a petty thief.

Ashley was pleased with herself thus far. Amusement and confusion were two good reactions but she was still waiting for the third one.

Garrus was starting to calm down by this point and decided to help Liara out. "Aha…well what I believe Ash was referring to, Liara, is term used by humans to describe someone who has a relationship with someone much, haha, younger than themselves."

Liara was still a little unsure about the idiom. "I'm afraid I still don't quite understand the joke."

"It's usually used in a slightly insulting fashion, implying the older party is preying on the younger party."

"That's awful! I would never treat Shepard like…"

At the mention of the Commander's name, it occurred to them that the fourth member of their group was suspiciously quiet and, as they refocused their attention on her, they mentally braced themselves for her reaction. Not only was Ashley haranguing her in the morning, which everyone knew was a big no-no, now she was implying that the red-head was some kind of sexual predator? This was bound to end in tears. That was if they were lucky. Worst-case scenario? The Mess would be utterly decimated and they would spend the remainder of the day picking pieces of cutlery out of their faces.

Shepard opened her mouth. Everyone held their breath. Here it came.

A small choking sound. Then another. The choking sounds continued (which alarmed Liara, who for a moment was convinced her lover was going to die choking to death on her own rage) but they quickly morphed into giggles (which Shepard would later vehemently deny. She was a badass. Badasses did not giggle. Therefore she did not giggle). Everyone visibly relaxed.

"Seriously, Ash? Crade-snatcher?" Shepard's first reaction upon hearing the question was to blow a gasket, mostly at the fact that she was being bothered, but when she thought about it, she just couldn't figure where out of the left field it had come from. Her lack of violence was borne out of incredulity. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

When it became clear that she was not about to become a stain on the wall, Ashley relaxed the last of her muscles and began to explain herself. "Actually Skip, despite the fact I really wanted to see your face when I asked, it's a genuine question."

"Despite your implication that I have…preyed on Shepard, surely your description implies that the cradle-snatcher," the word looked like it left an unpleasant aftertaste in the otherwise serene features of the Asari, "is I, the older party." Liara was still not totally up-to-date on the human saying, but the answer seemed obvious to her.

"Well, wait a moment." This was Garrus, having realised the situation wasn't about to hit critical, decided to stir the pot. "Shepard has cradle-snatcher written all over her. Hero of the Alliance Navy, first human Spectre, travels the galaxy rescuing damsels in distress from dig-sites. Fancy uniform and her own ship. I wouldn't be surprised if she had deflowered maidens from here to the Outer Rim." He was ticking these points off as he said them, making Shepard twitch. He threw the last one out just to see the expression on her face. Garrus was loving this.

"Hey! Just because I saved Liara from an ancient Prothean bubble doesn't make me a sexual predator! Besides, she's decades older than me, even if she does look like an ingénue." Shepard felt like her tenuous grip on the conversation was failing and though she knew she would have regretted it later, she wished she had thrown Ashley out of the Mess the moment she walked into it. She loved her crew, but seriously, this conversation was taking the piss.

"Glad you brought that up, actually," Ashley grinned. "See, when Liara first came aboard the Normandy she told us she was 106 years old, right?"

Shepard nodded cautiously. "Right."

"And you are, what, mid-thirties?"

"Thirty-four this year. So you're saying because of the massive age-gap, someone is getting preyed upon?" For a brief shining moment, Shepard wished someone was about to prey on Ashley, and drag her off kicking and screaming, then dismissed the thought as uncharitable, even if she was trying to drive her crazy.

"But, as I pointed out at the time, Chief Williams, whilst my age seems impressive to a short-lived species like humans, among my own kind I am barely out of adolescence." Liara pointed out.

Garrus, ever the quick thinker, or perhaps just the most on-the-ball this morning, had already worked out where Ashley was going. "Ah, so because in Asari terms, Liara is basically a teenager whereas Shepard is coming up to middle age-"

"Thirty-four is not middle aged! And even if it were I can still kick your ass up and down the shooting range, Turian!" Shepard's outburst was stopped by a blue hand playing with her hair and a soft voice whispering in her ear. It was rare indeed that Shepard allowed herself to be sassed in the morning, and Liara wanted to see what point Ashley was trying to make before her lover went off the deep end.

"-coming up to middle age, so she would be the predator in that case, but in human terms, Liara is nearly seventy years older than Shepard, in which case _she _would be the predator." Garrus continued, turning to Ashley for confirmation that he was correct.

"Exactly!"

"Hmm, interesting point Ash." The Turian rubbed his chin, apparently giving the query some thought.

"It isn't interesting!" Shepard slammed both hands down on the table, making the crockery rattle. Ashley and Garrus suddenly went poker-faced, realising that they had pushed too hard. Liara winced in sympathy for her Commander, wishing she had the foresight to prevent the conversation from reaching its inevitable conclusion. "There is no cradle-snatcher. There are no ulterior motives, no sinister actions." She waved a hand between herself and Liara. "We are both consenting adults, regardless of species, and what we share is not a source of entertainment!" She glared across the table, breathing heavily. The two trouble-makers kept their heads down, murmuring apologies under their breath.

"Sorry Skip."

"Didn't mean any offense, Shepard."

Elsewhere in the Mess, forks and mugs had paused halfway to mouths, shocked by the outburst, but as Shepard raised her gaze, they hastily reached their destinations, the clattering and scraping sounds returning an air of normality to the room. Liara dared to pull on Shepard's sleeve, encouraging her to sit back down.

"I'm sorry you got upset." She whispered in her ear. "I'm sure no harm was meant. Please, drink the rest of your coffee." Liara was stroking the soft skin on Shepard's forearm as she spoke, and the comforting action combined with her dulcet tones made the Commander take a deep breath in and out, and relax back into her chair.

For several moments, everyone sat uncomfortably until they thought it was safe enough to cautiously return to their previous activities. Liara went back to reading her notes, keeping one hand on Shepard's arm, occasionally making unconscious patterns with her thumb. Garrus quickly lost himself in trigger mechanism of his rifle, turning it this way and that, trying to work out how to improve it. Ashley sat quietly, eyes wandering around the walls. Shepard drank the rest of her coffee, glancing at Liara every few now and then, watching her work. After a few minutes the room had returned to its previous state, and everyone was sure they were going to make it through the morning alive. There was almost a disaster, but thankfully it had been narrowly averted and they could all get back to the job at hand.

"Of course, the question of who the cradle-snatcher is has important implications for who dominates who in the bedroom…"

"Williams!"

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><p>When Doctor Chakwas stepped out of the Med-Bay five minutes later, after all the noise had died down, she was met with a sight not unlike a battlefield. Tables and chairs had been overturned, and pieces of crockery were strewn across the deck. There was porridge dripping down from the bulkhead, and she was convinced that the kitchen had been the impact site for more than one Biotic Warp. The cupboard doors were hanging off their hinges, cutlery was scattered across the worktop and coffee granules covered every surface. The lockers had been pulled down onto the floor and pieces of paper were still floating delicately through the air, providing the other movement to the otherwise still tableau. She sighed and stepped back through the door. Life on an active ship was certainly exciting but the next time sometime destroyed the tea urn she wouldn't be held responsible for her actions.<p> 


End file.
